Broken Man
by Bishonen no Miko
Summary: A little poetic Vincent Valentine spoof. R&R would be greatly appreciated on this one.


I do not own Final Fantasy. All characters and affiliated subjects belong to Squaresoft, although I'd LOVE to own Vincent Valentine…  
  
Being one of the few serious things I've written, I worked hard on this. Please send me your opinions. I'd love to hear from you.  
  
I'll just leave you wondering as to who the mystery woman at the end is. If you guess right, I'll include you in one of my stories. Mind you, it's really hard to figure out who it is. Good luck!  
  
Broken Man  
  
by Crystal Poole  
  
  
  
  
It was many, many years ago  
  
Where our story first began.  
  
A young girl of a scientist  
  
Wanted just to lend a hand.  
  
Jenova was the subject brought  
  
From deep within the earth.  
  
It opened up new doors to life  
  
That could have been of worth.  
  
Our hero was protecting them  
  
From danger and harms way,  
  
And he found himself falling for  
  
The young girl more with each passing day.  
  
But Hojo was a jealous man  
  
And tried to win her heart.  
  
His courting angered our hero  
  
Which wasn't very smart.  
  
Our hero cried each night and day  
  
And cursed his evil foe,  
  
For though he'd shown her all his heart,  
  
Her love he'd never know.  
  
One day, the girl had Hojo's baby  
  
And died while giving birth.  
  
They had a little funeral  
  
And locked her in the earth.  
  
Our hero was mad; he was enraged  
  
That Hojo didn't care.  
  
He'd injected her with Jenova cells  
  
In the labratory there.  
  
The cells had made the baby grow  
  
And birth torn her in two,  
  
And now testing the child was  
  
All Hojo cared to do.  
  
So he went down into the lab,  
  
A gun clenched in his hand,  
  
Six bullets in the barrel,  
  
Each ment for the evil man.  
  
Into the basement he descended,  
  
Quickly as he can.  
  
As was his job, he had the right  
  
To stop his gruesome plan.  
  
His heart was beating quickly now,  
  
Cold metal in his fist,  
  
And though Hojo would surely fight,  
  
His mark he would not miss,  
  
For as a Turk, he was prided  
  
On his never waivering aim.  
  
As the sharpest gunman in his ranks,  
  
He would end Hojo's game.  
  
He opened the door and cocked his gun,  
  
And there the duel ensued.  
  
Hojo shot first; our hero fell,  
  
And thus he was subdued.  
  
Our hero woke upon a table;  
  
His left hand. It was gone!  
  
Instead of flesh, he soon found out,  
  
Was a gauntlet for an arm.  
  
His heart was pierced, his soul trapped in.  
  
Hojo'd summoned a demon inside.  
  
He was undead, but half alive.  
  
In no one could he confide.  
  
His skin had turned a pallid white.  
  
His once grey eyes were red.  
  
And suddenly, from far, far off,  
  
Was a voice inside his head.  
  
"It's all your fault! You let her die!  
  
Succumb to me, you wretch!"  
  
Hojo snuck up behind him,  
  
But this he did not catch.  
  
The needle slid in smooth and clean,  
  
The syrum flowed through his veins.  
  
Into a nightmarish sleep our hero slipped,  
  
Though death would be the same.  
  
Into a coffin he was placed,  
  
In a room that was near by.  
  
Restless from a long day's work,  
  
Hojo released a sigh.  
  
And there he left our hero,  
  
Who would never age a day,  
  
And only to be woken  
  
When someone would play the game.  
  
  
  
  
I picked up a piece of paper  
  
In the mansion 30 years later.  
  
A puzzle was upon the sheet.  
  
Who could have been the maker?  
  
"You do not have to play my game..."  
  
I read it in my head.  
  
"But if you choose to solve this puzzle,  
  
You may just wind up dead."  
  
Four hints to where to find  
  
The combination to the safe.  
  
It took us quite a while.  
  
Was it really worth the wait?  
  
Inside the safe was a great beast:  
  
A lab rat, we could see.  
  
And when he was defeated,  
  
We found a little key.  
  
Down to the basement we then ran,  
  
To finally end the game.  
  
And in a tomb we found a man:  
  
Vincent Valentine was his name.  
  
He told us to leave; his nightmare began,  
  
But we coldn't just leave him alone.  
  
He seemed so lonely sitting there.  
  
So solemn was his tone.  
  
He told us of his horror,  
  
Of Lucrecia and her child,  
  
The man named Sephiroth whom we had  
  
Tracked across many a mile.  
  
To let him be and die in shame,  
  
We just surely could not,  
  
So we invited him on our journey,  
  
But he simply would not.  
  
That is, until he found Hojo  
  
Was also who we chased.  
  
Slowly, a revengeful scoul  
  
Crept evilly across his face.  
  
So here I stand, upon the deck,  
  
Of the airship that Cid built.  
  
I look over to Vincent;  
  
Something about him makes me melt.  
  
He always tells me I look like her,  
  
But I don't understand.  
  
His eyes are weary. I wonder why  
  
I just can't lend a hand.  
  
  
  
  
"She'll never understand..." I think,  
  
Turning my head to see  
  
The beautiful way she always smiles  
  
Whenever she looks at me.  
  
I cannot fall in love once more.  
  
My curse will kill again.  
  
Though I act aloof and cold as stone,  
  
I'm still a broken man. 


End file.
